


Thought It Was All In Fun

by Glitter_Lisp



Category: Descendants (Disney Movies)
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Magical Healing Cuddles, Panic Attacks, Protective Chad Charming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-10-29 01:17:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20788181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glitter_Lisp/pseuds/Glitter_Lisp
Summary: Chad wishes he weren't so familiar with talking someone through a panic attack. Hereallywishes that wasn't something he had to do for Dizzy.





	Thought It Was All In Fun

**Author's Note:**

> I thought "Thirst Trap" was self indulgent. Then this. God, it's been so long since I've written gratuitous h/c.

Chad spends a moment pawing blindly at his bedside table before he manages to grab his buzzing phone. He’s exhausted and aching, and he only just managed to fall asleep… according to the time on his phone, not quite three hours ago. It might be based on the same campus, but college is _ way _ different from prep school. He got his econ paper submitted at 11:53 and collapsed face-first onto his bed without so much as brushing his teeth. He’s regretting that decision now.

He opens his eyes just long enough to see _ celia facilier calling, _ groans, and drops his face back onto his pillow as he slides it open.

“H’lo?”

_ “Chad!” _

Someone is crying in the background. He’s pushing himself up off the bed before he even decides to move, braced on one hand while he scrambles to get his knees under himself. “Celia? What’s going on?”

_ “I don’t know!” _ Celia sounds near tears herself. _ “I heard a crash and I woke up and Dizzy’s crying and I can’t get her to stop and I don’t know what to do–” _

He nearly falls off the bed in his haste to get out of it and stumbles towards his door in the pitch black. “Okay, it’s okay,” he says, as soothing as he can be when his heart is pounding in his ears. He stops just long enough to grab his room key before he’s out of the room and rushing down the hallway. “I’m coming over, okay?” he says. “I don’t have a key to your dorms, I’m gonna need you to come down and let me in, can you do that?”

It’s cold outside. The dew soaks through his socks as he tries to run across the quad as quickly as he can without slipping on the wet grass. The high school dorms are on the _ other side of campus. _ Who thought that was a good idea? Chad wants them fired. Imprisoned. Maybe beheaded. He’ll work out the details later.

“Celia?” he pants. “You there?”

_ “I don’t want to leave her,” _ Celia says nervously. Dizzy’s crying in the background has gotten quieter. That doesn’t comfort him. _ “Chad, she’s _ freaking out. _ What if I leave and something happens?” _

“Okay, fair point.” He’s gasping for breath by the time he’s in sight of the familiar building, stumbling to a halt. “Okay, uh, ah, give her the phone. Or put me on speaker, probably. Let me talk to her.”

_ “Okay. Okay. Hey, Dizzy? It’s Chad. Chad wants to talk to you. Okay, you’re on speaker.” _

It’s hard to force his tone into something gentle when he’s out of breath and panicking, but he does his best. “Hey, Diz. You okay?”

The only answer he gets is a soft sob. He closes his eyes and takes a breath, forcing himself to sound calm and steady.

“Okay. Gonna take that as a no. Can you tell me what happened? You have a bad dream?”

_ “‘m sorry,” _ Dizzy says, thick and stuffy, and Chad’s heart sinks.

“Celia? You there?”

_ “Yeah.” _

“Is anything broken? Or spilled, maybe? Any kind of a mess.”

Dizzy sobs again, choked like she’s trying to hold it back, and tries to apologize again. Chad shushes and hums, soft, comforting little sounds. 

_ “Yeah,” _ Celia says after a second. _ “There’s some glass on the floor, I think she dropped– Dizzy, are you bleeding?” _

“Shit,” Chad breathes. “Dizzy? Honey? Did you try to clean it up?”

_ “I made a mess I’m sorry I shouldn’t have I’m sorry I tried to fix it I hurt my hands I can fix it I’m sorry–” _

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Chad says firmly. “You did a real good job, trying to fix it. It’s not your fault. You did not do _ anything wrong. _ You hear me?”

_ “I broke it,” _ Dizzy says, almost despairingly. _ “I didn’t mean to. I got blood on it.” _

“Celia, I know you don’t want to leave her, but I need you come downstairs and let me in. Leave the phone with her, okay? I’ll keep an ear out.”

_ “Are you sure?” _

“Yeah.” Chad sighs, because this is a horrible situation, but at least it’s one he’s familiar with. “I got this.”

_ “Hey, Dizzy? I’m gonna step out for a second. Chad is gonna keep talking to you and I’m gonna go get him, you just hang tight for a second, okay? I’m gonna be right back. Okay, give me two seconds, I’ll be right down.” _

He hears running footsteps retreating. Dizzy sobs again. “You’re doing fine, sweetheart,” he says, trying not to grit his teeth in frustration. He doesn’t want her to think the burning anger in his chest is directed at her. “I’m gonna be right there, okay? We’ll fix it together. I’ll–”

The door moves a hair. He’s rushing inside before it opens all the way. Celia is already ahead of him, flying up the stairs; he doubts she did more than turn the handle and push before she turned back around.

The door to the girls’ room is standing open. Chad slips inside, eyes darting around as he shuts the door quietly behind him. Celia stands in the kitchenette, wringing her hands and looking desperately at Chad. Dizzy is wedged into the corner between the counter and the wall, knees pulled tight to her chest and head buried in her arms. Celia’s phone is sitting on the ground next to her. 

There’s a broken glass on the ground a few feet away. Drops of blood on the floor. A broom lying abandoned next to the mess. Chad, still in nothing but his uncomfortably wet socks, steps gingerly around the mess to crouch in front of Dizzy.

“Hey, there,” he says softly. “Are you okay? Dizzy?”

“I didn’t mean to,” she says in a small voice. It echoes mechanically from both phones before Celia snatches hers off the floor and ends the call. “I’m sorry. I can fix it, I can, I just needed to wash my hands and then I stepped in it but I can fix it, I _ promise.” _

Chad’s eyes flick down to her feet. They’re tucked halfway underneath her nightgown, but he can only imagine that walking over broken glass without shoes wouldn’t end well. Knowing her, knowing their grandmother, probably in the dark. Dizzy wouldn’t want to disturb Celia by turning a light on before she tried to sweep it up.

“I know you can,” Chad soothes. “You were doing a really good job, weren’t you? Just a little setback there. What if I help you clean it up? You got a good start, how about I finish sweeping and throw it away?”

Dizzy finally lifts her head. She looks baffled. “You– what?”

It’s a look he’s seen before. He’s seen his mother’s bad days—panic attacks and apologies and frantically cleaning the castle. Breaking the loop, he hopes, will work for Dizzy just as well.

“I’ll help,” Chad says again. “I’ll sweep up the pieces. Or– Celia, do you want to help, too?”

Celia, hovering anxiously to the side, nods quickly. “Yeah, of course. I’d love to help. Helping would be great.”

Chad shoots her a quick, reassuring smile before turning back to Dizzy. “So how about Celia sweep it up, then, and I’ll mop. And then we can take a look at your hands and feet. Does that sound good?”

“You…” Dizzy looks around unsurely, like she’s expecting someone to jump out and yell at her for not doing it on her own. Hell, maybe she is. She doesn’t talk about the Tremaines a lot, not in detail. Neither does his mother. He doesn’t know, doesn’t really want to know, how one of them would respond to this situation. “You’d help?”

“And be happy to.” He looks back at Celia with the most casual, relaxed grin he can muster. “How about you go put on some shoes? So you can walk around in here without getting hurt.”

Celia flits off and is back seconds later, hopping on one foot as she pulls on a pair of flip flops. Dizzy still looks baffled as Celia steps around them to pick up the broom, stepping carefully over the glass. It looks like Dizzy already threw away the larger pieces. Probably how she cut her hands. And then tried to keep cleaning anyways, and Chad is going to have to ask Jay to spar in the morning to get this out of his system, because god. _ God. _

He rubs Dizzy’s shoulder and keeps up a stream of comforting nonsense while Celia sweeps. When she’s thrown away the last of the glass, Chad squeezes Dizzy’s knee and stands up. He doubts they have a mop—is a little surprised to see a broom, actually, though he probably shouldn’t be—so he grabs a handful of paper towels from the counter and a spray bottle that he doesn’t bother reading the label of from under the sink. Half a minute later, the droplets of blood and the single bloody footprint are gone, and he’s back crouching in front of Dizzy. She’s uncurled herself just a little now, watching him and Celia in a dazed sort of way as she wipes absently at her wet cheeks. She leaves a bloody smear on the left. Neither Chad nor Celia mention it.

“All done,” Chad says gently. “Just like that, see? It’s all cleaned up.”

“But I still… broke it?” She sounds less upset now, more confused and almost hurt. Chad will take it.

“You’ve got more glasses in the cupboard,” he says. “No one will even notice it. But I’ll buy you some new ones, how’s that?” He tries for teasing, just a little bit. “Maybe plastic, huh?”

Dizzy lets out a little giggle that turns almost immediately to crying again. She’s not sobbing this time, just hiccupping a little wetly. Chad’s smiles softly. Getting there.

“How about we take a look at your hand and your feet there, huh?” he asks, because he’s on a bit of a winning streak and he wants to keep it going before Dizzy wears herself out too much. Dizzy opens her mouth. “I can pick you up,” Chad adds. “That way you don’t have to step on the floor.”

In answer, Dizzy just holds out her arms. Chad pulls her up, not letting her put her feet on the ground for a second, and squeezes her tight for a moment before he sets her down on the counter. “Let’s take a look, huh? Celia, you got bandaids anywhere? And some tweezers. And some ointment.”

Celia nods, relief coming off of her in waves, and disappears into the bathroom for a moment. Chad wets another paper towel and dabs gently at Dizzy’s face before he even looks at anything else, because looking at the tear streaks and that tiny daub of blood is not helping him keep his anger under control.

“Hey,” he says softly, before Celia comes back. “You’re okay, Diz. You hear me? You’re okay.”

“I _ broke _ it,” Dizzy says again. She sounds unsure now that the problem is taken care of. Eventually, Chad hopes, she’ll start to realize that this sort of thing isn’t a problem at all. 

Not tonight, though. Tonight, he carefully cleans and wraps the cut across her palm, then spends a while with the tweezers carefully picking small shards of glass out of the soles of her feet. Antibiotic on that, then more bandages, then a pair of fuzzy purple socks to keep it all in place and because, he’s pretty sure, fuzzy purple socks have a healing power of their own. He keeps a soft, steady stream of chatter as he works, telling Dizzy stories about college—mostly boring ones, silly little anecdotes about professors and classmates, nothing that will really hold her attention too much. 

He makes the mistake of suggesting to Celia that she can go back to bed and receives the filthiest look he’s ever gotten in his life. He has to duck his head to hide his smile, thinking fondly of how he would have reacted if someone had said the same thing about Ben when they were thirteen. Might react the same way now, actually. 

Dizzy is visibly wilting by the time he’s gotten her cleaned up, sagging forward against him and knuckling at her eyes. He lifts her easily to set her on his hip—and she’s so terribly light, he needs to have a talk with Fairy Godmother about what kinds of food they’re serving in the cafeteria and if he can get more desserts added to the menu—and totes her back to her bed.

She wraps all four limbs around him when he tries to set her down, and he yelps when he nearly falls on top of her. “Dizzy!”

“Stay,” she says, insistent for all that she’s speaking through a jaw-cracking yawn. “Please?”

He hesitates for only a second before shrugging and turning to sit down in her bed and swing his legs up. Fairy Godmother will be upset, he’s sure, but he’s equally certain that he can get her to understand. Barring that, he’s sure he can rely on his own stubborness to get away with it.

Celia flicks off the light in the kitchen and makes her way toward her own bed by the flashlight on her phone. She pauses, however, at the foot of Dizzy’s bed, shifting from one foot to the other.

“Hey, Diz?” Chad asks softly, and Dizzy hums. “Can Celia get in on this cuddle pile?”

Dizzy hums again and nods against his chest, flopping one hand out in Celia’s general direction. Chad just barely catches Celia’s relieved grin before she turns off her phone and crawls in with them. It’s a tight fit, all three of them in a twin sized bed, and Chad ends up mostly pinned underneath the girls. It would be a stretch to say that he minds. They’re not heavy, even with both of them sprawled on his chest—he means it, there’s going to cake, brownies, triple-scoop ice cream cones—and even if they were, he figures they’ve earned it. 

Bandaids, fuzzy socks, and cuddles with her cousin and her best friend. 

Yeah. Dizzy’s gonna be fine.


End file.
